…The end. The songwriter's dead. The blade fell upon him Taking him to the white lands Of Empathica Of Innocence Empathica Innocence The dreamer and the wine Poet without a rhyme A widowed writer torn apart by chains…

…See the skies hanging low Up upon walls the crumbling voice You ask yourself what is this time And what's the meaning of being? You ask yourself what is this time And what's the meaning of being? Follow the river at…

…An old man by a seashore at the end of day Gazes the horizon with seawinds in his face Tempest-tossed island seasons all the same Anchorage unpainted and a ship without a name Sea without a shore for the banished one…

…be your bunny hole day. My friends have become cheerleaders, they are interested,' o cute guys, and everything, which feeds them. its now a rainy evening, I stay home and think, of days in the spanish climat. Mornings were just fun, take a coffee, and lay under the sun. At the white sandbeaches, only wine bottles drinking.…

…sitting at home, waiting for their dads pay real well for Liisa for the honey they got in And with that money Liisa buys some more heroin Do not ask me where all this violence comes from! Do not ask me why there is so much substance abuse!…

…, like no-one else. You make me crazy in our bed, its always a great pleasure to meet you, and set the bate. I like the winter season, it lets you to stay with me in bed, have lazy evenings, and candle light dreamings…

…the enemy with their feet Without fear they fight Can you hear the call of the North star Feel its longing in your heart This bound is eternal Sworn through blood At the end we will stand as one! Even if the daylight…

…Cant you get out of your room, its the only place, where i can be with myself, not with everybody or the work, all the life, you like your hotel fucks, you invite women to see you, and pour them beverages, like in Tokio…